Page 6 of Temptation (The Mate Games 4)

My eyes drifted across the plane and back into the private bedroom. She was curled on her side, sleeping peacefully. As she would until long after we arrived at our final destination. I hadn’t wanted this outcome, but that doesn’t mean I hadn’t planned for it. I’d been prepared for this moment from the second I’d learned where Noah was taking her.

She couldn’t escape me. Too much hung in the balance. The world. My soul. Her life. Closing my eyes, I listened for the sound of her rhythmic breathing, the steady beat of her heart, and the rapid thrum of the child’s pulse. It soothed something in me to know they were both safe, but with the sound of that persistent flutter also came a sense of pure dread. She’d never forgive me for what I was tasked to do. I’d lose her even if she survived.

I gritted my teeth and looked away, filled with resolution. So be it. Her life was more important than my happiness.

Standing, I pulled my bag from the overhead rack and rifled through the few belongings I’d packed in preparation. She needed a second dose of the sedative. But instead of finding the cool glass vial I’d stored in the side pocket, my fingers slid across something unexpected.

Parchment?

Removing the folded paper from the bag, I stared in utter confusion at the green wax stamped on the edges, sealing the letter addressed to me. My thumb brushed over the raised M surrounded by stars.

Moriarty’s personal seal. Why? What did that toady man have to say that would require such secrecy?

Breaking the wax, I opened the letter and began to read.

Caleb,

Forgive the intrusion of your personal belongings, but Professor Sinestra had a vision. She told me you’d have need of this in the days to come. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how she knew I had it, but if I’m completely honest, she gives me the heebie-jeebies, and I wasn’t about to ask questions. She has the most unnerving eyes. I do not envy you her attentions. I, for one, would rather not be on the receiving end of one of her prophecies. Oh, listen to me, rambling on like I don’t have a whole host of things to attend to.

The point is, whatever you’re up to, this shroud is spelled to cloak you and your location from anyone who is searching for you (by magical or more traditional means). For all intents and purposes, you and... whomever your companion may be will cease to exist. But what am I saying? Of course you already know all about it. It is your specialty, after all.

Take care to place it in a safe spot. The magic is powerful. I’m loath to part with such protection, but she assured me it was of the utmost importance. That it was my way to ‘serve the cause,’ whatever that means.

We’ve never been close, but I’d hate to see you dead, and she did strenuously imply that would be the outcome if I did not follow her instructions to the letter.

Take care, Caleb. Please don’t die. I do love our chats.

~ Eugene

“Sweet suffering Jesus,”I muttered, pulling the linen shroud from the bottom of my bag. How had I missed this? Moriarty was right. It was impossible to mistake it as anything but the relic it was.

I ran the fabric through my fingers, the rough texture of the dingy faded garment surprising. It was old, ancient even, with spots worn so thin I could see through the threadbare patches. But if I’ve learned anything in my years, it was that magic didn’t need beauty or splendor. Magic was best served by items with significance.

I couldn’t pretend to know what the Seer was up to, but if she’d foreseen this outcome, if she knew I’d be needing such protection, I wasn’t about to turn it down.

I’d already been resolved in my purpose, but knowing that I had this added layer of protection sent the last of my anxiety away. This was my path. I was doing my God-sworn duty. I could not afford a shred of doubt.

A soft chime signaled an incoming announcement before the pilot’s voice crackled through the plane. “Please prepare yourself for final descent. We’ll be arriving in Dublin shortly.”

I rarely used my thrall these days, but I was thankful for the ability, as I’d been able to easily control the flight crew and have us set up with a private airfield outside of Dublin proper. It seemed of late I was more vampire than man, turning to skills I hadn’t made use of since my time as Aisling’s puppet. A small tendril of guilt wormed its way into my mind, but I pushed it aside. This was too important.

“Whatever it fecking takes,” I said to Sunday’s now restless form.

Shoving the cloak back into my bag, I pulled out the vial I’d originally been searching for, along with my seldom-used burner phone. There was only one contact.

Selecting it, I hit the call button as I stalked back toward the bed.

“Hello?”

“It’s time.”

Silence met my announcement.

“You know what to do. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

I powered the phone off, tossing it onto the bed as I drove the needle into the bared column of Sunday’s throat.

“Whatever it takes.”

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